2010-10-01
(no subject)
When you're a soldier, your body is not your own. It belongs to your people as a whole: they take it, they direct it, and it can and will be used up to preserve their life. You get used to living at a disconnect from your own body. You draw back into yourself and create a special space that is yours and yours alone.
When you're an anchor, your body is not your own. It belongs to your pilots as a whole: they take it, they fuck it, and it can and will be used up to to preserve their life. You get used to living at a disconnect from your own body. You draw back into yourself and create a special space that is yours and yours alone.
The feelings between anchors and their soldiers are not love. To call it love is simply to lie. Their feelings are simply the intimacy of the desperate: the feeling that two children have, huddling together in their last moments, when they have seen their parents killed and knowing that they will be next.
When you're an anchor, your body is not your own. It belongs to your pilots as a whole: they take it, they fuck it, and it can and will be used up to to preserve their life. You get used to living at a disconnect from your own body. You draw back into yourself and create a special space that is yours and yours alone.
The feelings between anchors and their soldiers are not love. To call it love is simply to lie. Their feelings are simply the intimacy of the desperate: the feeling that two children have, huddling together in their last moments, when they have seen their parents killed and knowing that they will be next.